


Pampered

by machtaholic (cinderella81)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Post-Credits Scene, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, M/M, Missing Scene, Pampering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 22:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6925171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderella81/pseuds/machtaholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing Scene before the first post-credit scene in Captain America: Civil War.  Steve pampers Bucky and talks pre-war and drag queens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pampered

The first thing Bucky noticed was the sounds, or lack thereof. No sounds of cars, no phones beeping constantly, no endless chatting. And the smells; no exhaust, no trash, no sweat - just fresh air. And the views were lovely.

And there was Steve, by his side everyday. It made his decision that much harder to make.

“I brought you here, to Wakanda, to keep you safe,” Steve said. 

“Don’t think I don’t appreciate it,” Bucky replied. “But with that book out there, the world isn’t safe … _I’m_ not safe.”

“So you want to be put back in ice?” At Bucky’s nod, Steve sighed. “When?”

“As soon as possible,” Bucky replied. “T’Challa has agreed to keep my here.”

“You know I think it’s unnecessary,” Steve said.

“I know, but I also know you won’t stop me,” Bucky replied.

“I won’t,” Steve agreed. “But, let me have a day? Just a day for you and me.”

“One day,” Bucky said. “I can let you have one day.”

“I’ll take it,” Steve said.

* * * 

The next morning, Bucky woke to the smell of bacon, eggs and pancakes. He rubbed his eyes as he levered himself up in bed, smiling when he saw Steve enter his room carrying a large tray of food, which included a bowl of small plums.

“What’s this?” Bucky asked.

“Breakfast in bed, obviously,” Steven replied, climbing onto the bed with Bucky and setting the tray over Bucky’s legs.

“You cook all this?”

“Of course I did.” Steve snagged a piece of bacon off the tray and ate it, smiling at Bucky.

“You always did know how to make crap food taste good,” Bucky said as he started to eat, pretending not to notice when Steve held his plate still so he could eat his eggs.

“Not like anything T’Challa has is bad,” Steve said.

“Everything’s been good,” Bucky agreed.

“T’Challa is a good host.” Steve reached over and cut Bucky’s pancakes so he could eat them easily.

“Thanks,” Bucky said as he finished breakfast. “You already eat?”

Steve nodded as he passed Bucky a plum. “Before going on a run,” he said.

“Of course.” Bucky finished one of the plums before eating a bit of pancakes.

“Have to try to keep some semblance of normalcy,” Steve said.

Normalcy. Something Bucky hadn’t experienced in a very long time and wouldn’t experience for a time longer. Until the book was destroyed, he was a danger. He sighed and pushed the food away, keeping one of the plums.

“Come on,” Steve said. “I have a whole day planned for us.”

Bucky allowed himself to be tugged from the bed, allowed Steve to help get him dressed. From there, Steve led the way through a series of corridors until they reached the outside.

“Thought we might take a walk,” Steven said. “Maybe catch up?”

And so they walked through the jungles, sticking close to T’Challa’s compound. Bucky noticed that Steve stayed on his right, Steve’s fingers brushing gently against his hand. And as they walked, they talked. Not about what had just happened to them, but about life. Steve told Bucky stories about right after he’d woken up, his many mishaps when trying to adapt to a new world with new technology. Bucky spoke in vague terms about things he’d remembered from his ‘awake’ times, things except whatever mission he’d been sent on.

They stopped mid afternoon for a light lunch in the jungle and then trekked back to the compound for dinner with T’Challa.

“Any more plans for the day?” Bucky asked as he followed Steve back to their wing of T’Challa’s compound.

“Maybe one or two more,” Steven said.

“Mmmhmm,” Bucky hummed. They reached the bathroom and Bucky stopped just inside the door. The lights were dimmed and there were a multitude of lit candles surrounding a large bathtub full of hot water. The scent of sandalwood and cedar filled the room and Bucky sighed softly. “What is this?”

“Thought you might like a bath,” Steve said softly. 

“A bath.” Bucky repeated. “If I were to take a bath, would you join me?” He couldn’t look Steve in the eye, suddenly shy.

“I,” Steve said, tapping Bucky on the chin so they were eye to eye, “would love to join you.”

“Good,” Bucky said.

The undressing was done perfunctorily, without ceremony. But as soon as Bucky slipped into the tub he let out a low groan - it had been a long time since he’d been able to indulge in a hot bath. He felt Steve slip into the water behind him and he instinctively leaned back, smiling when Steve’s arms wrapped around him.

“We did this the other way once,” Bucky whispered.

“That was a long time ago,” Steve said, “and not nearly as comfortable as this.” 

“Too right; it was cramped and cold, but the sentiment was there,” Bucky said, tipping his head back to rest against Steve’s chest.

“Mmmhmm.” Steve hummed happily, running a hand up and down Bucky’s chest. He wanted to count the scars, the marks from all Bucky’s missions as the Winter Soldier. But he didn’t; instead, he relished the calm, quiet moments he got to spend with his best friend.

Bucky was content to let Steve take care of him. When he felt first the water, and then Steve’s fingers in his hair, he let out a low groan.

“Artist fingers are the best,” Bucky said, wiggling happily as Steve washed his hair and massaged his scalp.

“You know it,” Steve replied as he gently rinsed the shampoo from Bucky’s hair. “I like it long like this.”

“Reminds me of -”

“Not me,” Steve interrupted. “You’re not that. I just like your hair like this.”

Bucky dropped the subject and let Steve finish washing his hair. He turned and faced Steve and they stared at each other for a few minutes before Bucky surged forward and kissed Steve, his one arm wrapped around Steve. He pulled back a few minutes later, dropping his head to Steve’s shoulder.

“Missed your lips,” Bucky said. “Those are definitely the same.”

Steve chuckled softly. “Come on, the water’s getting cold,” he said. “And I have just a couple more things up my sleeve.”

“Of course you do,” Bucky said, letting Steve help him out of the tub. He spared a glance at Steve as he bent over to drain the tub and sighed softly. He gave Steve a nonchalant shrug when Steve turned around and caught him staring. He stood still and let Steve briskly rub him dry and get him dressed.

“You trust me right?” Steve asked as he tugged his clothes back on.

“Always,” Bucky replied.

Steve grinned and led Bucky to low backed chair in front of the bathroom sink, facing the mirror.

“Take a seat,” Steve said.

Bucky slowly sat down, eyeing his reflection in the mirror warily. He kept still and watched as Steve moved to the sink and started to pull stuff out of drawers; comb, scissors, a big round brush and a blow dryer.

“What are you planning?” Bucky asked.

“A little pampering,” Steve said. “I might be a little rusty but, it’s just like riding a bike, right?”

“Whatever you say, Steve,” Bucky said, still looking at his reflection. He looked … happier. Still looked tired, but definitely happier. He watched as Steve picked up the comb and the scissors and stepped behind him.

“Hey, the girls spent months training me before we both left for the war,” Steve protested as he began to comb the tangles from Bucky’s hair.

“The girls,” Bucky said fondly, thinking of the apartment of drag queens that lived a few tenements down. The group of girls had taken him and Steve in, fed them sometimes, kept them warm when heat got turned off. They’d also given both Bucky and Steve a plethora of life lessons. Bucky remembered one particular time where one of the girls had needed to test some new makeup and decided that Steve had the perfect skintone to test it. That had been an interesting evening.

“See? Just like riding a bike,” Steve said as he combed and snipped at Bucky’s hair, sending tiny hairs floating down to the floor.

“Thought you liked my hair long,” Bucky murmured.

“I do,” Steve replied. “Just getting rid of the split ends.” He finished trimming and set the scissors and comb aside, reaching for the round brush and the blowdryer. “These things are much better now than back in the ‘40’s.”

“Looks just about the same,” Bucky said. “But I’ll take your word for it.”

The blowdryer was more white noise than loud, and the rhythmic brushing almost put him to sleep. When it finally turned off, Bucky came back to himself and blinked at his reflection.

“Stylish,” Bucky commented when he saw his reflection; his hair was really shiny and looked really soft.

“I think so, too,” Steve said as he ran his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “Come on, come to bed.”

Bucky felt Steve’s hand in his and sighed softly, allowing Steve to tug him to his feet and lead him back to the bedroom. Bucky stood in the doorway and watched Steve turn the bed down.

“I’m not changing my mind,” Bucky said.

“I know you’re not,” Steve said as he tugged Bucky to bed. “I just want one night with you. One night in a comfortable bed, with no alarms, no worrying about bombs or wakeup calls or Howling Commandos coming in. Just you and me in bed. Together.”

“Just so we’re clear,” Bucky said as he maneuvered himself onto the bed.

“Crystal,” Steve replied as he climbed into the other side of the bed, helping Bucky get comfortable. “I’ll come back for you.”

“I know you will.” Bucky closed his eyes and snuggled in close, pillowing his head on Steve’s shoulder. He felt himself drifting off to sleep and the last thing he heard was Steve’s voice quiet in his ear.

“I’m with you till the end of the line.”


End file.
